


Kisses Like Fire Burn Me Down

by shirewalker



Series: alternative R+R ending [3]
Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Smut, oncat gets a cameo!, well. that escalated quickly, zoya just can't resist harshaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirewalker/pseuds/shirewalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoya hates it when Harshaw gets friendly with their students. Because it's not professional. Nothing to do with a dance they shared in the past or an encounter at the banya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kisses Like Fire Burn Me Down

 

She couldn’t believe it.

He was back at it. The bastard. How dare he? How dare he stay behind and talk to that girl? How dare he FLIRT with the students?

The git didn’t have a clue on flirting. Why was it that all the students were so interested in him?

Obviously it wasn’t his brilliance. Must be how good of an Inferni is is. Not his… looks.

A flash of the man in question wearing nothing but a towel on his waist passed through her eyes and she growled at herself for remembering it. Why had she walked in on him? And saints, did he have to be so well built? Before the war he was… well, he LOOKED more like a stick. Now? Now the man had grown muscles in the blink of the eye.

And damn… he looked good.

For a second she allowed herself to enjoy the vision.

She’d gone to the banya and coming out of it was… Harshaw. Wearing nothing but that damned towel. His whole body was on display. All toned muscles. Full of freckles and that red hair… Not to mention, he was wet top to bottom…

Feeling an unwanted wetness spread between her thighs, Zoya shook her head violently and kept on walking. Or rather, stomping. There was no way, no how, that she could fall prey to whatever charms Harshaw had. Even if she was dying to know how he looked with literally nothing on.

She hissed at a random passer-by and kept on walking.

Where was she going?

She’d forgotten.

Why was she so mad?

Right… Harshaw had been… _flirting_ with one of the students. And she was mad. Not because of HIM flirting, but because teachers shouldn’t flirt with students. Simple. It was unprofessional.

Her lungs were knocked free of air when she bumped into something…

“Woah there!” …or someone.

“The hell do you want?” she hissed. Harshaw. Of course she had to bump into the crazy inferni.

“Me? You’re the one that came down the corridor to my room and then crashed into me.” Harshaw countered. She looked around and sure enough, this was the inferni wing.

Great.

“I… I was coming to remind you that flirting with students is against teaching policy!” she haltingly said, smothering down the fluttering that burst in the pit of her stomach when Harshaw smiled down at her. The idiot smiled! Did he not know what happened to those who dared to smile at her like that?!

“You came all the way here for that?” he cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest. His very well defined chest… She took in a shaky breath. In her momentary confusion, Zoya missed the spark in the ginger’s eyes.

“Yes. And now…” she cleared her throat. “I’ll be on my way. Goodnight!”

She turned and took a few steps before a hand hooked itself on the crook of her arm.

“Not so fast, Nazyalensky.”

Harshaw pulled her back. She made sure to call in her deadliest look. How dare he pull her like that?!

“Your… _reminder_ … couldn’t it have waited until tomorrow? Or our next class?” he inquired.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And your rush had nothing to do with… perhaps… not enjoying seeing _me_ in the company of Anya?” he insisted. Zoya felt an unknown fire burning deep down as soon as she heard that name. Anya. The girl that kept flirting shamelessly with him. And with whom he flirted back!

She licked her lips. The blasted things had gotten dry all of the sudden. “Whatever do you mean?”

Harshaw smiled and she knew she’d taken the bait unknowingly. Oh no…

“You’re jealous.” He stated.

“Like hell!” she countered, her voice a bit too shrilly for her taste.

“Yes you are. Admit it.”

A violent blush crept up her neck and suddenly she felt too hot. It was time to leave.

“I have to go.”

“You’re jealous and now you’re running away.” Harshaw said, his voice low. Saints, did he just growl? She found that sound awfully alluring. His red hair burned like fire under the lamps’ light.

She shook her thoughts away once more and stepped up to him. They were mere inches apart now. “Listen here you… crazy! I am not jealous. And I’m not running away.”

“Really?” he asked and she could feel his hot breath.

Her eyes strayed to his mouth. His lips were pink and curled into a half-smile that was begging to be slapped away. Or… Or…

She took in a shaky breath when the tip of his tongue peeked through as he wet his own lips. Out of instinct, she mimicked the movement.

“Zoya…” he started, his voice suddenly husky…

She couldn’t handle it anymore. She… she needed to quench that thirst. Now. It was killing her.

Their lips crashed together in a desperate hunger. She pulled his lower lip in between her teeth and drew a delicious growl from the ginger’s mouth. She growled back when his tongue pushed into her mouth, exploring hers with a burning fire. He pushed her against the wall and ground his hips against hers. Heat pooled between her thighs and she moaned, delighted with the result. Her hands were scratching on his scalp and his neck and Harshaw kept on kissing and biting her.

A hand snaked under her kefta and she hooked her leg around his waist, inviting him in. Yes. Yes… She needed him. She needed him like the birds needed the wind beneath their wings. Like a wild fire needed dry wood to continue its path of destruction. He was the fire and she was the wood. Desperate to be burned.

When his hand brushed against her underwear she let out a moaned yes and soon enough he dipped his fingers inside her.

“OH!” she moaned. “OH!” His fingers were doing magic inside her. Pumping and pumping so expertly she was close to come undone then and there.

“I didn’t know I could get you so worked up like this, Nazyalensky. So… wet…” He groaned against her neck. His breath sent shivers down her spine. The way he said that word… Saints… She was losing it. Fast.

Hungry and desperate she moved her hips against his hand, goading him into giving her the promised release. Her skin tingled with its proximity. So close. But so far.

“Here? Are you sure?” he asked. Whatever did he mean…? Oh. They were still on the corridor. For everyone to see…

“Room” she simply said and before she knew it, Harshaw was pushing her against the door of his room. Inside his room. Somewhere in the distance she heard a cat hiss. They had company. But who cared? Not her, not when Harshaw’s fingers were back inside her, doing unspeakable things to her.

“OH YES!” she screamed when her climax came. Her hands dug deep in his scalp and Harshaw groaned in return. Their bodies were so close she could feel his heart beating fast.

Lust was still rushing through her blood stream. Fast and steady. “I need you.” She growled against his lips before she pushed him into his bed. Quick as a flash she undid his pants and threw them and his boots away. There was just his underwear left. And it did nothing to hide how much _he_ wanted _her_.

She licked her lips in anticipation. Oh. How much she wanted him right now. The prospect of having him under her… of… rocking her body against his… Oh! She couldn’t wait. She needed him. To feel him.

His underwear was gone and she quickly took him in her hand. Harshaw clenched his eyes shut, his whole face distorted in tortured pleasure. Soon. Soon she’d have him screaming her name.

She stroked him a couple of times, earning sweet, sweet growls from the inferni. She loved having him squirm under her. His laboured breathing was pure symphony to her ears.

Zoya tossed her kefta and underwear away. And then she went down on him, without any mercy. She had him screaming for her in seconds. How delicious it all was. How delicious _he_ was.

But it wasn’t over yet. Her body was still burning in raw need for him. She’d explode if she left that room without having him inside her.

Zoya moved and straddled him and Harshaw’s eyes opened. They burned with lust. She lowered her body on his and felt him sliding inside. Slowly she moved, enjoying every second of it. It was inebriating, to have him inside her. The sensation was too good. Too…

His hands moved to her hips and he rocked her once, earning an unexpected moan from her lips.

“Aren’t we in a rush?” she said, slightly annoyed.

He simply smiled at her.

Zoya placed her hands on his shoulders, his broad and muscular shoulders… She could feel them coiled and tense with lust. For a moment, she simply hummed.

And then she rocked against him. The two moaned together. She rocked again, “Harshaw…” she moaned his name. Another thrust and he moaned hers. Another thrust. And another. And another. And another.

Soon they were moving in an almost frenetic rhythm, the room filled with their moans and the sounds of their bodies crashing down together. It was pure and raw lust. It was music for her body.

 

* * *

 

Her throat felt raw. How many times had she screamed – screamed! – his name?

Her skin was shining with sweat and so was his. His red hair was matted with sweat and clung to his face. Hers did the same no doubt. She could feel the waves of pleasure rolling out of her.

This shouldn’t have happened.

But it did.

And it felt good.

Better than good.

Never before had she had an encounter this… Oh, she couldn’t even find the words.

And it was with Harshaw. If, in the past, someone had claimed this man was even remotely good in bed, she would have thrown them in the infirmary. Right into the mental doctor’s arms. But now? Well…

“Want to go again?” he asked. His voice too was raw. She had made him scream her name too. And saints did it sound amazing on his lips. Too amazing. The word was askew, with her loving sex with Harshaw and loving the sound of her name on his… delicious lips.

Harshaw kissed her shoulder. “Zoya?”

“Only if you do the hard work this time.” She said.

“Tired?”

“As if. I just don’t want you to think that all you’ll be doing is lying on your back while I do all the work.” She bit out.

Harshaw chuckled – that sound did funny things to her insides – before he changed his position. He hovered over her. His eyes shone with unconcealed lust.

The night was still young.

And they still had a lot to explore.

 

* * *

 

She woke up with a startle.

Oh no.

Where was she?

There was a sleepy groan beside her and Zoya knew where she was. Rather. With whom she was.

Harshaw.

Oh no.

Flashes of the things they’d done came crashing back and she cursed under her breath. She shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have.

She tossed her legs over the bed, planning on leaving the room silently, but a hand circled around her waist and pulled her back. She fell on his chest.

“Where are you going?” Harshaw breathed on her neck, before placing a feather light kiss, right where her blood was pulsing. The kiss made her toes curl in delight. “You weren’t planning on sneaking away. Were you, Nazyalensky?” he said, his tone slightly sarcastic.

The hand on her waist started moving in circles, drawing invisible lines on her stomach. Her skin tingled from the touch and she closed her eyes, lost in it.

“Zoya?” he insisted, his voice now so low she could only feel it vibrating through his chest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you running away? Again?”

“Hum… no…” she hummed, slightly distracted with his teasing fingers. They’d moved lower now. Right on her hip bones.

“Really?”

Something snapped inside her and quicker than lightning she was on her feet.

“I shouldn’t be here!” she hissed at him.

Harshaw smiled smugly at her but said nothing. Instead, he got up and moved around the bed until he was standing close to her. Her eyes ravished on the view and she bit down her lips, thirst building fast.

He picked up her right hand and kissed her palm. His eyes never leaving hers. “Why not?” he finally asked.

She took a few breaths in, feeling faint from his scrutiny.

Her eyes drifted to the ring that glinted in her ring finger. “I heard we’re supposed to stay celibate on the days, and nights,” she added when a red eyebrow shot up, “leading to one’s wedding.” She took another deep breath when he kept on kissing her palm. Saints… He was too… too brilliant at this.

“Didn’t know you were so into following the rules…” he mused, his kisses finally over. But he didn’t let got, instead interlocking their hands together.

“I’m not.” She snapped.

Enough was enough. They’d had plenty of time before. They'd have plenty of time afterwards.

Zoya let go of him, much to her secret despair, and looked for her clothes.

“I’ll see you in a few hours. And please…” she added, her eyes going over his figure once more, “Try to come presentable. And by that I mean, don’t take Oncat’s fashion advice. Just for once.”

Harshaw’s mouth curled slightly and he bowed his head in a light curtsy.

She rolled her eyes and left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> These two... xD
> 
> In case you're wondering, the dance mentioned in the summary is from the one shot called I Won't Dance which you can find on my works here :)
> 
> PS: that last break was a fast-forward. just in case it wasn't clear at first ^^'


End file.
